


You Jump, I Jump

by Laily



Series: Now That's What I Call Magic! [15]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Cruise Ships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Romance, Titanic References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27617521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laily/pseuds/Laily
Summary: It's Stephen's birthday, and what better way to celebrate than by going on a luxury cruise? Loki brings far too much baggage as usual.
Relationships: Loki/Stephen Strange
Series: Now That's What I Call Magic! [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581754
Comments: 10
Kudos: 47





	You Jump, I Jump

**Author's Note:**

  * For [megloveslokitooomuch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/megloveslokitooomuch/gifts).



> It's already your birthday where I am, so Happy Birthday [megloveslokitooomuch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/megloveslokitooomuch/profile)!

“I think it’s awfully nice of him.” Loki dipped his chin, causing his sunglasses to slide down the bridge of his nose by a fraction. “Suspiciously so.”

Stephen laughed. “You know, you could be the best of friends if you would only give him a chance.”

“What do you call this?” Loki waved a hand at the queue ahead of him with a huff. “The least he could do is give us VIP passes so we could skip this line of humans.”

Stephen squinted at the tickets in his hand. “There _are_ VIP passes, Loki.”

Loki sniffed. “I don’t do queues, so. Look no further for any sign of my affection for your Tony Stark.”

“You’re such a good sport,” Stephen said fondly. Then in a conspiratorial whisper, “I’m proud of you.”

“Shut up,” Loki said irritably.

They were not a very tactile couple, especially in public places like this, but Stephen could not help but tighten his grip around Loki’s waist, arguably the much, _much_ better birthday present than this week-long cruise ahead of them.

“Thank you,” he whispered in Loki’s ear.

“The things I do for you, Doctor,” Loki murmured with lips that barely moved, which made them easier for Stephen to surreptitiously steal a kiss from. When he pulled away, there was a gleam of pleasure in Loki’s eyes that had not been there before.

“There is no need to cajole me, you know. There is no way I’m not coming with you on this trip.”

“I can’t help it. You look good dressed down like this.”

Loki made a face. Tony had presented a good enough argument this morning before they left that Loki thought it prudent to substitute casual attire for his ubiquitous leathers – there was no need for the striking couple to stand out more than they already did, said he, ever the wise adviser on Midgardian fashion etiquette.

He refused, however, to let them touch his hair, and as the sea wind blew through the open pier where they had been standing for the past half hour waiting to be boarded, stray curls caught in between his lips.

Stephen reached over to tease the wisps of black hair away with his fingertips. Boy, he really had no self-control today. “It’s not every day that I get to see you wear my colours.”

Loki fidgeted with the sleeve of his slim-cut navy blazer and tried not to turn the hideous beige chinos and burgundy loafers the blackest of black by means of magic. 

Stephen could not care less what Loki wore, as long as Loki was happy. “But I must say, the preppy look is becoming on you. I like it.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “That makes one of us.”

“Doctor Strange. Prince Loki.” A lanky young man with generic Scandinavian good looks greeted them with a courteous bow, just as they entered the golden revolving doors on the deck. “Welcome aboard SuperStar Gemini.”

The lobby was far bigger than in any mainland hotel he had ever seen. The classic Montgolfière chandelier alone must be worth more than a house, yet it paled in comparison to the centerpiece, a grand staircase at the very heart of the ship, its balusters of Baccarat crystals glinting even in the light of day. 

Stephen tried not to appear too impressed by the lavish internal decoration. Loki, arguably the more accustomed to the finer things in life between them, appeared almost bored. “About time. We have been waiting.”

“My sincerest apologies, Your Highness. Let me try and make it up to you – how about some champagne?” A set of very white teeth flashed as the important-looking man gave a passing waiter a dazzling smile and a knowing nod.

“It is a great pleasure to have you on board with us today. My name is Sebastian, I am your personal concierge for the duration of the cruise. I am available 24 hours a day, and should you have any need of any assistance, please do not hesitate to call on me.”

Sebastian stepped back and held out an arm. “Shall I show you the way to your honeymoon suite?”

Stephen and Loki exchanged identical looks of amusement.

“After you,” they said in unison.

Loki immediately laughed, with more élan than Stephen had ever seen him display. They could not get to their suite fast enough. For fear of repeating himself _to_ himself, he really had no self-control today.

“We’re off to a good start,” Stephen commented, taking a sip of his champagne as they walked at a leisurely pace along a narrow hallway lined by gilded Art Nouveau paintings on one side, a bank of windows overlooking the open sea on the other.

“I like your enthusiasm, Doctor.” Loki held out his own glass of bubbly and clinked it to Stephen’s with a resounding ring. “Cheers.”

___________________________

“This is macabre,” Loki muttered. “Even for me.”

“What is?” Stephen murmured distractedly.

“Showing Titanic when we are hundreds of nautical miles from the nearest coast.”

“I doubt there are icebergs in the Indian Ocean, Loki.”

“Nat Geo Wild says Antarctica’s melting faster than a Yeti in Africa,” Loki said with a frown. “Some could have broken off and gone rogue.”

“Always the catastrophist,” Stephen laughed, dropping a kiss on the part of Loki’s head closest to him. “Safety standards have drastically improved since the 1920s so I don’t think there’s anything we should be worrying about.”

Then his face changed. “Other than the fact that this is a butt-numbing, three-hour-long movie and I don’t know if I can manage that long without…”

“Without?” Loki’s beaming smile could not get any bigger. He loved it when he could read Stephen’s mind.

Stephen felt his face burn under the scrutiny of Loki’s gaze. He must not be the only one who had put thought into the things they could do on the stately super-king-sized bed back in their suite. Not to mention the private balcony overhanging the slow-moving ocean, under the blanket of stars. “You know.”

Loki preened. “Well…you did explicitly say we should mingle once we’re on board. And what is that Midgardian saying, good things come to those who wait?”

“Urgh. Don’t remind me,” Stephen muttered. “Speaking of mingling, we could still do one of the other things. There’s stand-up comedy, a duo act which is supposed to be very good…”

“Meh.”

“French Cancan…”

“Bof.”

“…there is the Casino? If you are so inclined?” Stephen suggested doubtfully.

Loki stared. “Are you setting me up for murder, Strange?”

Stephen stared right back.

“Why would you – never mind,” he muttered. “There’s no need to murder anybody over a card game. I am quite good with blackjack.”

“I am _very_ good with blackjack. And poker. I even excel at the machines.” Loki shook his head. “No. No drawing attention to ourselves.”

“Well unless you want to go back to the Banquet Hall for the smorgasbord of all-you-can-eat buffet, I suggest we pass the time and watch this so we can finally tick this movie off your Bucket List once and for all.”

“On second thought, we are in international waters, I can technically do whatever I want…” Loki said dreamily.

“Oh no, you don’t.” Stephen seized Loki’s wrist and pulled it into his lap, anchoring its owner in place. The lights dimmed and opening credits began to roll on the big screen. “Don’t go where I can’t see you. Please.”

“Hmm,” Loki purred, snuggling against his lover. He looped one of his long legs around Stephen’s shin. “If you insist.”

The first two hours of the movie passed in a blur, for neither had much interest in the on-screen romance between the two star-crossed lovers. Thanks to Loki’s nifty illusionwork, they spent most of the time enacting romantic scenes of their own, hiding their galocher-ing in plain sight, all the while fooling their fellow film enthusiasts in neighbouring seats into thinking that they too were as engrossed in the movie as everybody else.

But once the iceberg hit, the mood suddenly took a sombre turn. Heavy dramatization aside, the sinking of Titanic did happen, a fixed point in the timeline of human history.

What had gone through the Ancient One's thoughts as she watched the scene unfold in her Mind’s eye as it must have done? To stand back and do nothing when all she had needed to do to avert the disaster was to nudge the drowsing watchman a little, lift the fog a little, part the clouds a little just so enough moonlight could pass through for the lookout to spot the iceberg sooner?

Given the gravity of his responsibilities now that the mantle had passed to _him_ , Stephen felt like laughing at his own naivete. How could he have fallen for the false promise of respite this luxury holiday was supposed to bring?

This was no place for him. For Doctor Stephen Strange, the hot-shot neurosurgeon, maybe. But not Doctor Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme.

Slim fingers suddenly wrapped around his wrist, cold and firm, and Stephen’s senses were catapulted back to reality like a snapped tether.

“Take comfort, Doctor,” Loki murmured. “I am here.”

Stephen shuddered. He placed a reassuring hand over the fingers gripping his forearm. _I am not going anywhere._ “Thank you.”

“What for?” Loki asked lightly, as if he did not care for the answer.

The people around them may not understand what they saw in each other. But they did not need to understand.

Stephen was Loki’s anchor, and Loki was his.

“Grounding me.”

Loki surprised him by intertwining their fingers together and bringing them to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of Stephen’s hand and said nothing.

Stephen thought nothing of it at first when something wet hit his skin, but when he saw another droplet fall onto their conjoint hands, alarm reared its head.

“Loki, what’s the matter?” he asked anxiously.

Loki quickly felt his face, brushing the welling tears away with the tips of his fingers. “Nothing. I am fine.”

Stephen turned to face the screen once more. Amid the chaos brought forth by the icy waters of the Atlantic Ocean seeping into every nook and corner of the doomed liner, the scene playing out right now was that of the quiet, almost idyllic moment of a mother putting her two children to sleep, deep in the bowels of the sinking ship.

 _And so they lived happily together for three hundred years,_ the mother said.

 _In the land of_ _Tír na nÓg, land of eternal youth and beauty._

The moment quickly passed, but the shroud of deep melancholy remained. Stephen forced himself to sit through a few more minutes of Loki compulsively swallowing to hold back his tears before calling it quits.

“We’re leaving,” he said abruptly.

In a split-second, he had them transported back to their suite; when Loki did not protest at the interruption, Stephen knew he had his work cut out for him.

He quickly deposited Loki onto the bed and got under the covers to join his obviously upset lover.

He held Loki tightly, just like the old man did his wife while icy water raged around them, seconds away from plunging them both into a deep, watery death.

“It’s just a movie, Loki,” Stephen soothed.

“It would have been quicker to smother them with their pillows.” A tear trailed slowly down Loki’s cheek and disappeared into his own pillow.

“Loki.”

“Kinder too.” Loki’s voice shook. “She shouldn’t have lied to them like that.”

“It doesn’t exist?” Stephen guessed quietly.

“Oh, it does,” Loki said bitterly. “Long, long ago, the Irish believed in a mystical land in the Western Seas called Tír na nÓg, an underwater paradise inhabited by Gods and Tuatha Dé Danann, the warrior tribe of the Gods. A beautiful people, touched by neither illness nor age, forever youthful and prosperous.”

“A final moment of solace, Loki. That was all she wanted to give her children.”

“Tír na nÓg is not a place for humans, Stephen,” Loki said flatly. “And they didn’t live happily ever after either.”

“Who?”

A momentary pause.

“Surely you have heard of the tale of Niamh and Oisín?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Hmm.” Loki closed his eyes and pressed his cheek deeper into the pillow. “I do not know if I should.”

“Tell me,” Stephen pleaded quietly.

Loki sniffed. He took a deep breath to compose himself.

“Niamh brought her mortal lover Oisín into Tír na nÓg on her magical horse with every intention to spend the rest of her long life with him. And yet after only three years, Oisín became homesick and wished to leave his immortal lover’s arms to return to Ireland.”

Loki’s voice dipped to a calmer, albeit more sombre tone. “Niamh could deny her lover nothing, so she gave him the horse to use for the journey home. As they said their goodbyes, she warned him to never touch his feet to the ground.”

“Why?”

“Time works differently down in the Otherworld,” Loki said softly. “What he did not realise was that three hundred years had passed in Ireland, a century for every year he thought he had spent in Tír na nÓg. The utter shock caused him to fall off the horse, and as the water washed away the magic of immortality, the borrowed years crept up on him. All three hundred of them.”

Loki curled tighter into himself.

“Oisín quickly became old and died.”

A gust of sea breeze blew the day curtains in through the half-parted balcony doors, bringing with it the scent of the ocean and a chill down Stephen’s spine.

Loki had regaled him with plenty of stories before, each more fantastical than the one before. So why was this one weighing on Loki so heavily?

“Do you remember the night we got together?” Loki asked. “It was your birthday too, if you recall.”

Ah. So that was why.

“Yes. Three years ago.” Stephen closed his eyes at the memory and hid his smile against the black of Loki’s hair. “How time flies.”

Tony had invited them both to dinner at his new mansion under the pretence of a housewarming-slash-birthday party. It did not take them long to realise they were the only guests. And as wise men say, the rest was history.

“Hold on to me, Stephen,” Loki implored. “I can’t have you falling.”

“I won’t fall,” Stephen promised. “I’m not ready to leave.”

He felt Loki stiffen, and tightened his hold around the narrow waist.

“I am _here_ , Loki,” Stephen said serenely. “I will not leave.”

His embrace loosened, but instead of letting go, his arm travelled upward, trailing featherlight touches along the line of Loki’s torso. It finally wrapped itself around Loki’s collarbones from behind, warm and comforting. “You are my happy place.”

“And you, mine,” Loki said breathlessly, digging his chin into the flesh of Stephen’s protective arm.

“Now. What can we do to salvage the night?” Stephen nosed Loki’s hair out of the way to begin nibbling on the back of his neck. “Any ideas?”

“Hmm. Since everybody in their right mind is either drinking or gambling…” Loki mulled. “How about a visit to the Library?”

Stephen groaned. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but we are on a cruise ship, Loki. Can we do something else for once? Something a bit more fun?”

Loki wriggled and wiggled and squirmed until he was facing Stephen proper.

“I thought you found libraries sexy? The smell of old books? The dark corners, the privacy?”

“I _do_. They _are_ , but sweetheart – ” Stephen shook his head helplessly. “Honestly.”

“It gives me a sense of meaning, the written word. Tranquillity.” Loki’s imploring eyes roamed Stephen’s face in search of solidarity. “That for once, the tragedy that I am reading in the books…does not belong to me.”

Stephen heaved a great sigh. “Alright, Loki. You win.”

He could not resist giving Loki an Eskimo kiss; when Loki was triumphant, he was radiant. “We can read out loud to each other. But on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“We do it in the jacuzzi.”

Loki let out a little gasp of scandalous delight. “Out on the balcony?”

“Out on the balcony.”

“Oh, let’s.”

“Brilliant. Now get undressed.” A wicked grin. “I need to inspect my birthday gift.”

“Not until you take off yours.” But Loki too, sounded awfully excited, suspiciously so. “You jump, I jump, remember?”

Stephen burst out laughing. Who was he kidding? He _was_ falling, faster and harder than he had ever fallen for anyone.

“A fair bargain,” Stephen said finally. A year older, a year wiser. A year blessed with this beautiful, fantastical creature in his arms, the fairest of them all. “Very fair indeed.”


End file.
